First Chance
by Uchiha Yukime
Summary: Uzumaki Naruto was the second name he had been granted that came with his second life, but before that life, before being the Yondaime Hokage's son and the Kyuubi's jinchuuriki, he had once been Orochimaru's best friend. Once, he had been a Uzumaki in blood, looks, and skills...


Chapter One: Loss, Gain

Shock was the only feeling his mind could understand at the moment. As his yellow, snake-like eyes widened and stared blankly at the medic shinobi standing in front of him; Orochimaru could slowly feel the shock receding and be replaced with an emotion he had never felt before. He felt tears gathering at the edge of his eyes as the reality of what the shinobi in front of him had said came crashing down on him.

"_I'm sorry to have to tell you this kid, but your parents are …they're dead. They were killed on their mission. You…you need to come with me to the hospital and collect their bodies, after that, well…you will need to bury them kid…"_

Orochimaru nodded his head faintly, walking behind the shinobi that had quickly turned around and started to speed walk towards the hospital. Looking at the village, Orochimaru couldn't stop his eyes from watching as the rest of the villagers went on with their lives while his own life was shattered beyond repair. He lowered his head, letting his long black hair – so much like his mother's – cover his face as he felt the tears he could no longer hold back spill over his cheeks and onto the ground.

As the young boy cried silently, the shinobi looked at him from the corner of his eyes; a pitying expression crossed the older man's face as he took in the sight. It was such a shame that children as young as the boy following him were made orphans, but that was just how it went in a shinobi village, after all, it hadn't been too long ago that Konoha had lost its former Hokage, Senju Hashirama, to the many battles taking place after the Great Shinobi War. Sighing, the medic-nin dared not spare another glance at the boy following him; he wasn't any good at consoling small kids who now found themselves alone in the world.

Lifting his head, Orochimaru saw the hospital looming over him as the medic-nin pushed the doors open before letting Orochimaru inside and then himself. Once again taking the lead, the oldest of the pair skillfully moved through the endless white halls before coming to a complete stop outside a simple door. Opening the door with one hand, the man motioned Orochimaru to step inside.

"Go on kid, I'll wait outside. Once you finish…put the bodies back inside the seal scroll and then I'll take you to the front door."

Not answering, Orochimaru step inside the much too white room before closing the door firmly shut. His eyes were greeted to the sight of two still bodies on the single metal bed in the center of the room. Slowly, the pale-faced boy made his way to the bed, his breath leaving him when he gazed at the two faces that were so familiar, and yet, they were so foreign at the moment. Orochimaru stared at the woman; she had long black hair, lightly tanned skin, and he knew that underneath the closed eyelids were eyes the color of emeralds. Sliding his eyes to the man, Orochimaru saw short dark brown hair, pale white skin, and eyelids that were a light purple shade.

They were his parents.

Those two people dead on the metal table were his parents.

His parents.

And they were dead.

He gripped the closest thing –which happened to be his father's sleeve – before letting a trail of never ending tears escape him. "It can't be! I saw them just a week ago –and they were alive! They can't be dead! They can't!"

Orochimaru let the sobs echo in the room, he didn't care if the medic-nin or anyone else heard him, he just needed to cry. He was still a child, and now he was an orphan when just a week ago he had been a child with two very much _alive _parents. "It isn't fair! Kami, it isn't fair!"

Burying his face into his father's side, Orochimaru began to muttered words that could offer some form of comfort, but it was all in vain. For how long he was there, Orochimaru would never know, but he finally managed to compose himself –barely – so that he was able to seal his parents, _his parents_, into the scroll. Not caring about the tear tracks that were surely on his face, the dark-haired boy made his way to the hall, where the medic-nin was still waiting as he said he would. No words passed between them, and as soon as the front doors were in sight, Orochimaru passed the shinobi and left the hospital as quickly as possible, the scroll firmly in his hands.

In a daze, Orochimaru walked the streets of Konoha, his mind still utterly focused on the fact that he was an orphan now. He was alone. There would be no one waiting for him back at his home; nothing but a dark and empty house. Feeling himself about to lose what little control he had over his tears, Orochimaru ran, his long hair trailing behind him. The villagers didn't spare the running child a glance; it wasn't unusual for children to go running about the village after all.

Orochimaru finally slowed to a walk when he reached the outskirts of the village. Standing before an imposing black gate, the boy could only walk forward; he needed to do this, _needed _to give his parents a proper burial. Even if it meant facing the cruel reality that his parents were really dead, that they would no longer be around to laugh with him. Barely able to keep standing, Orochimaru made his way towards the very back of the graveyard, taking in the sight of the desolate land filled with the gravestones of all the shinobi that had given their lives for the sake of the village.

No one bothered to come to the final resting place of those long dead. The graveyard was a place better left alone for the dead, instead, many families and friends visited the memorial stone that was located in one of the shinobi training fields.

Their reason? It was less painful they said.

They were all cowards.

Finally unable to walk any further, Orochimaru dropped to his knees, carefully holding onto the scroll. Starting to dig, the young boy mechanically dug a hole into the damp dirt; his mind drifting from the task as he thought about what he would do after he had buried his parents. He didn't know, not anymore. Pausing to wipe the sweat from his forehead, Orochimaru noticed something, to be more accurate, _someone_.

Standing a little farther to the right than him, a short boy with long red hair was standing in front of two unmarked graves, a bunch of flowers clutched tightly in his right hand as his shoulders shook. Even from where he was, Orochimaru could hear the soft sobs the boy let out as he cried. He could tell the boy was merely visiting; he didn't have a speck of dirt on him, opposed to Orochimaru who was covered from head to toe with it. Coming to a decision, the dark-haired boy carefully stood up and made his way towards the only other living soul in the graveyard.

Reaching a pale hand towards the redhead, Orochimaru gently patted the smaller boy on the shoulder. Surprised, the redhead whirled around, a kunai appearing in his left hand, and all Orochimaru could do was stare at the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Narrowed eyes glared at the dark-haired boy as the smaller boy held himself tense and ready to flee on command.

"Who are you?" The tone was so cold that Orochimaru couldn't help but flinch.

"I'm…I'm Orochimaru…" He muttered, suddenly unsure of what to do.

The shorter boy glared at him before his eyes soften with resignation clear in the bright blue eyes that captivated Orochimaru. A sigh escaped the redhead before he shook his head rudely at Orochimaru and stored away his kunai, "Why are you even here? I have been coming for nearly a year and I have not seen anyone step foot on these grounds."

The pale-skinned boy lowered his head, letting his long black hair shield him from the other boy's gaze.

"My parents…th–they…just died…and I was…was, burying them…" The tremble was clear in the dark-haired boy's voice as he said the words he hadn't wanted to say for a long time.

Once again another sigh escaped the redhead, yet this one sounded pained, almost weary in a way that Orochimaru had never heard another person sound. And when Orochimaru looked through his hair, he saw the way the blue eyes gazed at him with such understanding that it shocked him. The way a soft smile was directed towards him that painfully reminded him of his mother's smile, a smile full of warmth and unending kindness.

"You need to get home and rest, it has been a hard day for you…I would know. I was once in your position…" The redhead tilted his head upwards, staring up at the darkening sky while his features gained a faraway look, lost in memories of days gone by.

Orochimaru was again shock. This boy in front of him had lost his parents as well.

"Your parents are dead?"

"Yes…they have been for a year now."

Orochimaru looked at the boy in a new light; he must be truly strong to have been able to carry on for a year without his parents. After all, Orochimaru felt like he was going to fall apart without his parents, he just didn't know what to do with life now that he was alone.

"Come now, I will make sure you get home safely, I know you can't possibly be in any condition to look after yourself. Just tell me where your house is."

The dark-haired boy couldn't argue so he simply did as he was told, his sorrow and grief were finally taking their toll on him and he felt as if he could just pass out then and there. He let himself lean against the shorter boy, enjoying the warmth he could feel radiating from him as they walked out of the graveyard and towards Orochimaru's house –house, not home, it wasn't home when nothing but an empty apartment waited for him.

Not a single word was spoken by the pair, there were no words that would ever be good enough to be said to a child that had just had to bury their parents. The redhead carefully steered Orochimaru clear of the busy streets and instead took the alleys to get to Orochimaru's house. Glancing occasionally at the taller boy leaning against him, the redhead let his concern for the near-stranger show on his face. It worried him, how concerned he was feeling for a boy he had never even set eyes on before today. Sighing quietly, he shook his head, it didn't matter, and Orochimaru was clearly in no shape to take care of himself, so the least the redhead could do was to give a helping hand, to just be _there_.

Finally, the boys reached the apartment complex, and after climbing the steps to reach the third level, the redhead walked down the long dark hall searching for the room number Orochimaru had told him.

Opening the wooden door with the keys the other boy had given him moments before, the redhead gently steered Orochimaru towards his bedroom. The dark-haired boy was barely even aware of what was happening, his eyes were nearly closed and he looked like death had warmed over with the way his face looked paler than humanly possible. With a gentleness that surprised the redhead, he tucked Orochimaru in; making sure the boy's blanket was wrapped tight enough to keep the sleeping boy warm. Making sure Orochimaru was sleeping soundly, the redhead left the room without a word, planning on leaving since he kept his word already.

At least…that was what he had been _planning_ to do; instead, he couldn't help but feeling the need tofurther help the other boy. The redhead shrugged, he suppose it wouldn't be of any harm to leave Orochimaru with a few meals ready to be eaten.

Content with his decision, the redhead walked towards the kitchen and set about cooking nice, warm tomato soup with a side dish of white rice and vegetables.


End file.
